


i am legend

by starlinks



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, God!Percy, Romance, eventually but not yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlinks/pseuds/starlinks
Summary: gods can be made in different ways. they are the manifestations of culture and belief: well, perseus jackson has been a long-standing legend at the camp, and in the mortal world, he is well known around the nation as the kid who fought off a gunman and fell from the st. louis arch, among many other things. mind over matter, as they say, and so, a new god was borne from fear and awe**Percy sighs. He thinks of how children of Hades can sense death. If Nico is visiting him, now, then… He doesn’t like his odds.“If I’m going to die, then so be it. Tell me; it’s okay.” He surprises himself with the ready acceptance and force that his voice takes. Maybe it’s just that, deep down, Percy knows that something is going to happen to take this away. This being a happy, stable relationship with Annabeth in New Rome, attending the university together: something resembling a good ending after all these years of trauma and turmoil, of therapy and recovery.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 47
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

i.

“Hey,” a voice sounds from the shadows.

“Hey,” Percy replies. He doesn’t even blink; he’s used to Nico’s antics by now. 

“Percy.” Nico considers, “how are _you_ doing?” He asks, sitting by the window sill and blocking Percy’s view of the quad. The late afternoon Californian sunlight sifts through from the window behind the son of Hades, illuminating him. 

“I’m alright. How are you?” Percy blinks this time. It is rare that Nico pops into his room in the middle of the day without prior announcement. It is even rarer that he does so without getting straight to the cause. 

Nico had stopped shadow traveling for social visits after he caught Percy with Annabeth in a rather… _compromised_ position one time. So Nico popping in via this mode of transportation had become a little synonymous with _there’s-an-emergency-and-it’s-the-end-of-the-world-please-help_.

“Just the usual.” Nico says and pulls a thread from his shirt, not meeting Percy in the eyes. 

“Okay,” Percy replies, feeling awkward. He spreads his hand in front of him, “I’m about to go to class. Do you want to come with me?”

Nico shakes his head. “I”m good. I think I’ll go check in with Hazel.”

“That’s on the way. Just walk with me.”

Nico doesn’t say ‘yes,’ but he waits wordlessly as Percy grabs his backpack from the door and shrugs it on his shoulder. 

On the walk across the lawn, Percy glances back at Nico worriedly from time to time. It’s strange; Nico hasn’t said much. He’s quiet and observing, and Percy is not oblivious enough to miss that. 

He stops in front of a bench, not caring that this will probably make him tardy for his biology class, _again_. The professor has been patient enough throughout the semester but Percy only feels a light twinge of guilt. 

Nico has grown taller in the past few years, and Percy can almost look at him eye to eye now. 

“Spit it out, Neeks,” Percy says, impatiently. “Just tell me.”

“What?” Nico asks, reeling his attention back from far away and focuses his sight on the son of the sea god again. 

“What is it? You _look_ at me like you’re _mourning_.”

Nico flinches as a response. “It’s that obvious?”

Percy sighs. He thinks of how children of Hades can sense death. If Nico is visiting him, now, then… He doesn’t like his odds. 

“If I’m going to die, then so be it. Tell me; it’s okay.” He surprises himself with the ready acceptance and force that his voice takes. Maybe it’s just that, deep down, Percy knows that something is going to happen to take _this_ away. This being a happy, stable relationship with Annabeth in New Rome, attending the university together: something resembling a good ending after all these years of trauma and turmoil, of therapy and recovery. 

Part of him can feel that something else has yet to come on the horizon, that his life as a demigod isn’t over yet, that there’s another challenge for him to overcome eventually. He just hasn’t expected that it would be so soon. So _final_. 

Nico takes a few steps back, nearly losing his balance. “No, Percy, never.” He stutters, shaking his head. 

Percy’s brow furrows. “Then what is it?”

“You aren’t going to die, Percy. I’m just visiting.” Nico shakes his head again, and he lifts his hand before thinking better of it and letting it drop on his side. “Look, I need to talk to Hazel, and I know you’re already going to be late for class. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

The son of Hades leaves before giving Percy a chance to respond. 

ii.

“Seaweed Brain, are you even listening to me?” Annabeth demands once she realizes her boyfriend had scarcely been tuning into her careful summaries of what they learned in their philosophy class earlier in the week. She scowls. “I’m doing this for your benefit.”

“Huh?” Percy says, a little startled, his brain taking a moment longer to catch up and digest what Annabeth just said. He blames his ADHD. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.”

Annabeth opens her mouth, about to tease him, but sees the faraway look on Percy’s face. The last time she saw that look, it had been when she told Percy about her stepmom’s cancer diagnosis (they had both been shaken by a reminder of how fragile mortal lives can be). This isn’t good.

“Are you alright? Is there anything you want to talk about?” Annabeth pushes a little, inquiring with her eyes.

Percy shakes his head and she doesn’t probe further. Percy bites his lip, half in relief, half hoping that she would force him to tell her what is going on. If his suspicions for how Nico acted are correct, then there are some serious implications for what can become of him.

Instead, Annabeth smiles, clearing her eyes of doubt. They’ve known each other for nearly a decade now, and there is no one she trusts more than Percy on this Earth. She’s probably just worrying incessantly. She does that sometimes; it’s a defense mechanism. 

Annabeth makes an exaggerated move of closing her textbook and dropping it on Percy’s desk with a thud. She kisses him on the cheek. “Okay. In that case, want to walk me to Berkeley?”

“Your class isn’t until four. That’s over three hours away, Wise Girl.”  
“I know.” She smirks flirtatiously, “I was thinking… Well, maybe we can catch a movie on that way there?”

Percy grins. “Thought you’d never ask.”

iii. 

In hindsight, they should have been a little more careful, but Percy and Annabeth had been enjoying a nice streak of monster-free time together and happy times breed carelessness. This is all to say that it should have not taken either by surprise that a Minotaur comes running out from the shadows (how did the Mist hide _that_?!) As expected, Percy throws himself in front of Annabeth. 

That all would have been fine, and he managed to land a few hits on the monster, except that by some demonic luck, Echidna and her two children (two _very_ vicious children: the chimera and the Nemean Lion) all decided to join the fun. It’s like the four beasts had a monster conference sometime before this and collectively decided that they would try their hand at eliminating the fearsome Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase again. You know, just for shits and giggles.

Annabeth curses, realizing that she’s forgotten her invisibility cap. _What a junior mistake._

The daughter of Athena holds up her backpack to defend herself against the lion’s claws (apparently textbooks on architecture can act as a semi-effective shield when it comes in a pinch) as Percy crept up from the side to kill the beast. 

Somehow, in another minute, Percy is able to dodge another one of the Minotaur’s attacks with a skilled side-roll ( _I haven’t lost my edge; ha!_ ) and Annabeth tangles some of the chimera’s heads in her backpack’s straps, trapping it and eliminating the creature with her dagger.

But she huffs a breath too loudly, and as Percy turns towards her with an easy grin, Echidna attacks, shredding the muscles on his back into ribbons. It’s already too late by the time Annabeth gets to the mother of monsters. 

The beast had attacked the son of Poseidon with a spray of acid and Percy is _smoking_ ; clear shock lingering in his eyes as he sinks down hard on the ground.

He can feel the warm blood from his body seeping out, his heart pumping furiously as it tries to compensate for all that loss. The last thing Percy notes before his vision fades from pain is how his blood looks a lot lighter than he expected -- a little too yellow-ish in tone and not quite as muddy as it should have been -- and that he has never seen Annabeth so afraid. 

iv.

“No!” Percy falls and he hears a chilling, coarse scream. His heart wrenches, and he desperately wants to pull Annabeth into his grasp and tell her that _he’s okay_ , but he can’t make use of his arms or move any other bone or muscle in his body anymore.

Percy feels his life force draining out of his body, sluggishly, slowly, agonizingly. It’s a funny day to die: the sun shines on him with all its cheery warmth, but all he can feel is the creeping cold that starts to set into his unmoving limbs. _Damn Nico_ , Percy thinks, he should have known better than to lie to him like that. Percy deserved a chance for his last goodbyes.

There are so many things he still wants to do in this world, so many ‘I love you’s that he still owes Annabeth. So Percy fights back the darkness that continues to push and push, threatening to edge his consciousness away -- but it’s useless: the son of Poseidon knows that it is a losing battle. 

Percy's mind flashes moments of his life back at him, hearing faint whispers of what others have said about him his whole life. Maybe that’s what a demigod’s death is made of, for _what is a hero without a reputation?_ In the end, the legend of a hero’s name on others’ tongues is all that exists anymore.

They are all just stories in the end.

v.

Perseus Jackson is surprised that the last thing he remembers before his heart stops is what his mother told him once upon a time, with nothing but determination in her eyes: “if my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself.” 


	2. we are all just stories in the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poor annabeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys asked for it

vi.

It’s _childish_ , she knows, but Annabeth Chase finds herself negotiating. With whom -- that she does not know. The Fates, probably. Maybe the gods. Or perhaps, a collective of powers that’s ever meant anything to anyone in this universe. 

Whatever and whoever it is, she does so with a fervor that’s caught between a choke, a sob, and a maniacal laugh. 

It quickly becomes apparent that Echidna is not much of a challenge when faced with a furious daughter of Athena. 

“No!” She screams, refusing to believe that Percy is truly wounded. He’ll probably bounce up and throw a crooked smile at her, claiming that ‘tis but a scratch, right? _Right?_ If only.

Annabeth doesn’t spare a single glance to the spoil of war (a poisoned spike from the tail of the mother of monsters) as she runs to her wounded boyfriend, cursing incoherently and damning Echidna to the deepest, darkest things she can imagine to summon.

She tries to catch Percy before he falls, but he already fell. Annabeth throws herself next to him, tumbling down, and she manages to lift his head just enough so that the son of Poseidon can rest (uncomfortably) on her lap. His eyes already closed. Annabeth knows that she will never forget his last look of surprise for as long as she lives. 

His sea green eyes have always been so brooding, so _striking_.

Annabeth presses her trembling hand to Percy’s chest. He’s warm under her touch, feeling almost feverish. The fingers on his right hand twitch a little, and she hurries to grasp it, ignoring the thick slippery liquid between their touch. 

His blood.

He’s _dying_. The fact doesn’t even sink in enough for Annabeth to digest just yet. 

The daughter of Athena shakes a little as her fingers edge to her jean pocket to take out some ambrosia, only realizing now that she was careless enough to not pack any. Besides, it’s obvious there’s nothing any amounts of ambrosia or nectar can do to save him from _this_. 

_It’s not fair_ , she repeats it like a mantra in her head. _It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair._ Not after all that they’ve been through in the past decade. 

They don’t deserve this. No one deserves this. But then, what should they have expected? They are heroes. And heroes, in the context of Greek gods and myths, don’t get happily ever afters. Even Arthurian legends have “satisfying” endings compared to what they are suffering through.

Just look at Jason Grace (or like, literally any other demigods they’ve known for more than a few years.)

There’s nothing in this world that can save Percy short from direct divine intervention so Annabeth glares deviantly into the heavens. Sunlight bores down harshly, beating against her back. It’s supposed to be a nice day, and the gods certainly won’t appreciate an interruption from whatever leisure strolls that they are partaking on at the moment. 

_So what?_ Annabeth thinks. _They owe us this._

Annabeth Chase kisses Percy Jackson’s hand prays. Blood is on her lips.

vii. 

The heavens remain silent.

viii.

“Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth says angrily while she realizes that no one is coming. “I love you.”

He doesn’t respond, still bleeding in her lap. She grasps his hand a little tighter, her other hand on his chest feeling his pulse beginning to crawl to a stop. 

“Gods damn it,” Annabeth curses, trying to not be overtly sacrilegious as she issues another request to the gods, the very same ones who birthed them, the very same ones who choose to stay silent through this whole affair. “Gods fucking damn it. Come _down_ here, you pieces of shit. The least you can do is to make sure that Perseus Jackson lives a couple of years more after the _two_ wars he’s won for you all. Or did his use expire?”

She had not meant to be so bitter, so _acrid_ , but that’s all that she can vocalize. Annabeth had always criticized those who do not accept their fates, but she finally understands. Sometimes, no matter how much she plans, how much she strategizes, there are still things that can blind and surprise her at every turn.

Maybe she can plead Thanatos. Afterall, her friends had unchained the god of peaceful death in Alaska. Maybe he’ll listen to negotiations, or maybe Annabeth can wrestle him like Herakles did for the life of Alcestis. But this was anything _but_ peaceful so this may be out of Thanatos’ jurisdiction.

Then, Annabeth’s mind turns to Athena. How can her mother turn a blind eye to this? Was she not the daughter who had uncovered the Athena Parthenos after millennia of effort, protecting the sanctity of _both_ Pallas Athena and Minerva? _Maybe that didn’t even matter; I was meant to be just a pawn after all_ , Annabeth thinks, remembering how the goddess ignored her countless times in the past. Athena rarely acts, even if Annabeth herself is in danger. Why would she help them now?

How about Phoebus Apollo? The god that was changed by his experience as a mortal on Earth, the god who she and Percy saw less than just two years ago -- the only godly visit of her life that was without agenda and purely out of good will? The god of youth, the god of medicine -- he would be quite handy at the moment. But there is no sight of the sun god, and the sky is still annoyingly bright, so Annabeth guesses that the god is not leaving his station on the chariot and risking Zeus’ wrath today. Maybe he forgets what it’s like to be human. Maybe he has already forgotten. Immortality tends to eat human memories away, after all. 

It is a little harder for Annabeth to believe that Poseidon, too, chooses to neglect their situation. How can he sit by while his son bleeds to death on the concrete roads of fucking Oakland Hills, California, out of all places? Does he hold no love for Perseus, the son who he once claimed to be his favorite? (Percy had admitted this conversation to her with some coaxing, and she listened on with jealousy.) Sure, things had been a little more awkward between the two of them since Hera kidnapped Percy -- because Percy had been a little bitter with his father’s lack of interception during that whole fiasco -- but last she heard, the father-son pair had already figured out their differences. So why is he not here either?

Puzzles are a whole lot easier to figure out when they don’t have anything to do with gods and their fickle natures. 

ix.

Perc’s heart stops and Annabeth howls in agony. 

Less than a heartbeat later, she can feel a god’s presence before he shows himself. 

_Thananthos,_ Annabeth almost starts, but she knows that isn’t quite right. Who else can it be? Can Hades himself show to escort Percy to the Underworld? The thought barely fleets past Annabeth’s mind and she wants to sob: that sense of finality is too severe. Her heart feels like it’s been split into many little pieces and she cannot bear.

The god steps closer and a shadow covered the light that was pouring over her. She glances up. It is Hermes. 

“Annabeth Chase,” he nods at her, gently touching her shoulder with one hand, as if he’s pleading her to let go of Percy without too much of a fight. Blood -- some part of it almost looks like it is sparkling, oddly enough -- starts to seep into Hermes’ running shoes, but the messenger god doesn’t seem to pay them too much attention. 

“Hermes,” she tries to choke out. “Please help.” 

If she were in any other condition, Annabeth would have demanded for Apollo instead ungratefully, but help is help. The daughter of Athena doesn’t have any leverage to bargain for aid at the moment. 

“You must let him go.” Hermes says.

Annabeth leans back slightly, stunned. She pulls her hand back from Percy’s chest but uses the other to grasp his hand tighter. “Never.” She grinds out, “leave if you are not here to help.”

Hermes’ brow scrunches up in contemplation, then looks up at the sky, half in exasperation, half in sadness. “We don’t have much time,” he tries to hint. Or maybe he isn’t hinting anything, but when Annabeth tries to capture his stare, Hermes doesn’t meet her eyes. Only gods with secrets (secrets that often are forbidden for _mortals like her_ to know by some stupid, ancient laws) look at her with such cowardice. 

She takes the bet.

“Okay,” Annabeth bites her lip. “Be quick.”

x.

Many hours have passed, and she is still sitting alone with her loss, lamenting. 

Her mother’s grey eyes glare at Annabeth in her mind. 

Then, the daughter of Athena remembers. Since the first time she’s set eyes on Percy, Annabeth has always known. One day, he is going to go somewhere she cannot follow. It’s only been a matter of time.

**leave a review if you enjoyed. hope everyone had a happy and safe new years; join my[Discord](https://discord.gg/8Qmdvn4) server here**

**Author's Note:**

> yet another story i don't know if i should continue or not (but you should let me know if you are interested)... i know. how irresponsible of me. sorry.


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